667929
by TotallyRandomAuthor
Summary: 423526. That's my number. Ever since the attack from the Visitors, I want to find out who they are and what their purpose is. And my brother has something to do with it. Hetalia AU. Iceland's POV.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I wanted to take a break on the Mary-Sue fic I was working on. I got this idea randomly. Anyways, this fic is probably one of my most well-thought out fics that I came up with alone. This idea is probably unoriginal, though. I based it off of another fic I read. I tried to make it original by putting two different plot ideas into one. So be warned: The story goes all over the place. **

**Anyways, this fic is in Iceland's point of view. (I might switch POVs in other chapters though. But I said ****_might. _****It's highly unlikely.) And I apologize if it seems like it's a bit random. DX **

**I'll be honest, things will begin to make more sense in the next chapters... o3o" And another thing is that I didn't put all my effort into it. I'll probably rewrite it and make it better. Probably.**

**My writing sucks too, just so you know. This makes me go 'Ewwwwww...' I also typed this all up on my iPad, so please be wary of typos.**

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. AND PROBABLY NOT EVEN THE IDEA TOO.**

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There's nothing special to my life, I suppose. In fact, it's pretty bland. I live in a cold, grey world, where everyone depends on the community to get food, shelter, and all your basic needs.

In the community, everyone has a six-digit number to tell us apart from the rest. The numbers are randomly generated when we are born, and no two six-digit combinations are alike. The numbers are permanently burned onto your skin, usually on your left shoulder. I'm known as 423526.

Our numbers are burned onto our skin for a reason. It allows access into certain buildings, like the big store houses where the food is kept. In a way, it acts like an ID. Based on the area you lived in, you were assigned to arrive at a certain store house on a certain day. I was assigned to go to Storehouse #17 and went there every Thursday.

I never really liked the store houses, to be honest. They w ere very big and very ominous, and inside, it had very poor lighting. It was always very cold in there too. They also stirred up memories from when I was younger. I could remember that I always went together with my older brother, to those store houses. We'd walk together, holding hands the whole time.

His number was 667929. I don't know how I remember it. I suppose we were pretty close. After all, It was just me and my brother. My parents were unheard of. They disappeared mysteriously, right after I had reached my first birthday and my brother was six years old. My brother had to already take care of me at such a young age. No one seemed to care that a six year old lived alone with only a baby for company. But somehow, we managed to be able to live by ourselves.

Every Thursday, my brother always brought me with him to Storehouse #17. He carried me with him every week, until I was able to walk beside him.

It's a shame I don't remember him well.

I remember the last time I saw him, though, as if it were yesterday. It happened eleven years ago, when I was six years of age, and my brother was eleven. I remember it was on a Thursday, because we were on our way to get our weekly rations.

I remember it was very foggy too.

We were pretty close by the storehouse when an announcement came onto the speakers, telling everyone in the whole community that there were unexpected visitors. They were not friendly, and we had to stay inside a building until they left.

My brother and I had ran inside the storehouse before the doors could be shut closed, which was pretty hard because a lot of people outside were doing the same thing. It's a miracle we made it inside.

Inside the storehouse, everyone was pretty calm about it, albeit they were a bit scared. I myself was frightened, and I remember that I was clutching very tightly onto my brother's hand. He seemed very calm about the situation, and he brought me to a corner where we could sit together. I asked him what was happening, and if we would be alright. He let me lean on his shoulder, and whispered comforting words into my ear.

_"Of course we will be alright, little brother. Nothing bad will happen."_

I told him I was scared.

_"We all are, but remember, this is a safe place."_

I believed him.

We stayed in that storehouse for a few hours, until finally, I felt myself getting more and more tired by the second. The last thing I remember before going to sleep were my brother's arms wrapping me in a warm, comforting embrace, and a whisper telling me "Sweet Dreams."

I don't remember what exactly I felt, but I think I was comforted greatly.

I think that we stayed in the storehouse overnight, though I can't be too sure. But I remember waking up to hear people's screams. The whole storehouse was in chaos.

Apparently, the 'visitors' had gotten in. I've actually caught a glimpse of them. They wore hooded cloaks, and they carried weapons, all varying in size and shape.

I don't think I've felt so frightened in my life. My brother was awake, and he was already on his feet. He helped me up and told me to never leave his side. I promised him I wouldn't, and I grabbed his hand and held onto to it.

The rest of it was all a blur to me. I kind of remember him looking for a place for both of us to hide. But through the confused fray of it all, I think I let go of his hand.

I don't remember how or when it happened. Before I knew it, he was gone, and I was lost in a mass of frightened, screaming, people. I could remember people were dying left and right. They were either getting killed by the Visitors, killed each other, or killed themselves.

I had somehow managed to find a good hiding place, between some crates of food. I curled up onto a ball and covered my ears, trying to drown out everything. I think I passed out from fear.

The next time I woke up, there was a man shaking me awake. Apparently, he was to take out the dead bodies from the store house, along with a few other people. I asked him what day it was.

It was Saturday.

I asked him for 667929.

He told me he didn't know, and he couldn't possibly remember everyone's numbers.

I was pretty upset, but he told me I could probably find him at the town square. Apparently, the dead bodies were being carried out, and everyone would be looking for the family members, dead or alive.

I was a little kid, but I knew where to go, because I usually took walks around town with my brother, and I got there with no problem. As the man said, almost everyone was in the town square. I could see that there were dead people carried on stretchers, and they were brought to the center of the town square. It frightened me. Some corpses were horribly burned. Others had a lot of wounds on them. There even was a corpse with its guts ripped out.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted my brother.

But he was not by my side.

I remember shouting and calling out for 667929.

_"Where is 667929?"_

_"Have you seen 667929?"_

_667929, 667929._

_"Big brother."_

At last I found him, but not in a way I wanted to see him. I saw him, lying down on a stretcher, being carried by two men. He had a stab wound on his chest.

I remember screaming and running up to him. I remember grabbing hold of his hand. They were very cold and clammy, but I did not let go. Eventually, I was pried off and dragged away from him. I was a kicking, screaming, and crying mess.

No one seemed to notice me.

No one, except one person. He was a kid, and I remember he looked close to my age. I don't remember his face, or his number, but I do remember that he comforted me, and that he told me that his only living relative, his father, had died. I don't remember what else he had told me. All I remember is that I felt a little better after listening to him. We were in the same boat, after all.

Everything else after that is pretty much a blur to me. I don't even know how I managed to be independent, and it surprised me that I haven't died of depression. I guess I should give the Visitors props for making me be the person I am now. I feel bitter towards them. Everyone else seemed to have forgotten them. Mention them, and everyone would pretend that the disaster that happened eleven years ago didn't exist.

I don't understand why they chose to forget. I don't understand why people aren't interested in finding out the reason of the attack. People say that the Visitors won't come back again, but is it really true? I want all of my questions answered.

I'll never forget them. At least, not until I find my answers.

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**A/N: I know this chapter is a bit boring, but it's just introducing Iceland's life as it is. The next chapters will probably be a little bit more interesting. (You could also see I got lazy towards the end.) Also, the boy that comforted Iceland has some relevance to the story. (Can you guess who it is? It's not that hard.)**

**Iceland's parents actually do not have any meaning, but there's a story behind their disappearance. (Which I might post as a separate fic.) I'd also like to point out that the numbers have a meaning behind it. (It won't be too hard to figure it out.)**

**Also, just so you know, the six-digit numbers are like a replacement for names. **

**I need to explain a lot of things, but it'd be a bit long. Once I finish this fic, I'm going to post a chapter explaining things. Also, do not be surprised when this fic changes a little. I'm working to make this better. **

**There will also be no pairings. There is some NorIce, but it's only in a family sense. Every relationship is friendship. Nothing more, nothing less. :3 **

**I'm sorry if this is a bit short. My chapters tend to be no more than 2000 something words. -.-"**

**Anyways, please review and tell me your opinions on this! (Or not. You don't need to if you don't want to.)**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: This chapter is a bit short... ;w; I probably will disappoint. TTwTT I kinda just typed up this thing in one go. (You could see that I'm very lazy.)**

**DISCLAIMER: Anything own don't I. (The words are in backwards order, because I'm just awesome like that. im so smrt. JKJKJKJKJK.)**

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Everyday is always cold, and the streets always look so dark and gloomy. The fact that there are no sounds unnerves me slightly.

The streets are mostly empty, but occasionally, you could see people walking along the street, either to take their rations of food, or to just take a walk. None of us talk to each other when we pass by. We don't even acknowledge each other.

I guess that's why I sometimes hate my life.

It's too gloomy, too quiet, too dark.

Of course, I could stay inside my house, but my brother and I used to take walks around town together a lot, and in his memory, I walk around town in the same route, everyday. I feel that it's paying some respect for him. It's the least I could do.

I'm pretty sure people think I'm weird to walk out on the streets everyday, but I suppose it makes my life a little less boring. I said a _little_. All of my days are pretty much the same. Wake up, go out for a walk, come back in, do something productive, go to afternoon school to get educated, go back home, and sleep. Thursdays are a little different, but that's only because I take my rations of food.

You could say that I'm hoping for something interesting to happen.

And today's no different from other days.

Or so I think.

It feels normal as I make my way through town. As I walk down one of the streets, I notice something in a dark alleyway just as I pass by it, before it quickly disappears from my view. It seemed like a person. Normally, I wouldn't think anything of it, but the person was running. No one ever runs, unless they're running away from something, or if they're in a hurry. (But no one ever hurries to anything, because people have plenty of free time and always arrive on time.) It's odd to see someone running on a normal day.

Curiosity begins to stir in me.

And...

Given that I have such a boring life, I'm a sucker for adventure.

Normal people probably wouldn't think to follow the person. But I'm different.

And I make a choice only weird people choose.

I go into the alleyway.

The alley is small and narrow, but since I'm skinny, I could fit in there easily. I run down the alleyway and turn left on a corner, as the person was running in that direction. As I turn the corner, I could see the person running in the distance, before turning to the right at another corner. I run as quickly and quietly as I can, following the person. The person is a seemingly big person with a masculine build, and has to run a little bit sideways in the alley. It gives me an advantage, and I slowly close the large gap between me and the strange man. (I'm assuming he's a man because he has a masculine body.) At the same time, I keep a fair distance away.

My heart is thumping with excitement. The man might sooner or later notice I'm following him and accuse me of stalking him, but in my defense, he's running, and I want to see what's up.

I continue to follow him as he makes twists and turns through the maze-like alleyways. Right, left, right, right, left. I'm so deep into the alleys that there's hardly any light. I'm tired from following him, but I don't want to back down and give up. There's so much turns that I'm pretty sure I won't find my way out. My only choice now is to follow him. Maybe he knows a way out.

Finally the man slows down, and he turns around a corner. In the distance, I could hear talking. I quietly walk a little closer towards the voices. Now this is just interesting. I've never felt so excited in my whole entire life. I know eavesdropping is bad, but it makes my life a lot more interesting.

"You're late," I hear. "But you're not the last. Why are you people so slow?" The voice sounds cold and raspy, and it gives me the chills. I wish I could see whose voice belongs to whom, but I don't want to risk getting noticed.

"I'm sorry," a gruff voice replies. I assume that it belongs to the man I was following.

"Sorry doesn't cut it. This meeting is important, and we're all waiting eagerly for what you've found. Do you know how disappointing it is when you don't arrive on time? The sooner we get more information the better."

My eyes widen. There's people making a secret meeting? I'm pretty sure that it's not allowed. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I slowly creep closer to the sound of the voices. I'm glad that it's dark and that the shadows are hiding me.

I manage to take a quick peek around the corner. There's an open space around the corner, and about ten people are gathered there. In the middle of the open space, I could see the familiar build of the man I was following. A shorter, slimmer, person is facing him, and I assume it's the owner of the cold, raspy voice.

I can't see his face, as it's covered with a hood.

A sudden realization hits me.

_Visitors_.

Even though it was eleven years ago, I remember exactly how they look. They wear hooded cloaks, and they have weapons with them.

I back away before they see me. I'm about to quietly leave, when I hear the voice of the huge man. "I have the information, sir."

"Good. Then spit it out," a new voice comes in. It sounds pretty feminine, and I assume that it belongs to a female.

"No one asked you to speak," the cold raspy voice says.

I could hear a small 'hmph' and a small "Whatever," from the female.

I could hear the huge man clear his throat. "Can I speak now?" There's a small pause, and I assume that they're nodding their heads. "I know who the boy is, and I've found out where he lives."

_Boy? What boy? _I know I should leave, but the conversation is taking an interesting turn.

"Did you find him?" I hear the cold voice ask.

"No, he was out when I checked."

"Hm. I don't suppose that's bad. We should take him when he's asleep anyways. It'll cause less of a struggle. Bring him here by tonight."

"I can do that."

"You _better_ get him tonight. We also need to get started in finding the weapon to get it out of him. He's soon reaching his peak. It's the right time to help our boss."

I feel confused. What exactly are they talking about?

"What's his number anyways?" The feminine voice asks.

"Oh, I wrote it down on my hand," the voice of the huge man says. "It's... 423526. Not like this information will be useful anyways."

I freeze. That's my number. And they're after _me_. My instincts kick in. I have to get out of there. Now.

I turn to leave, but I see someone in front of me, and before I know it, I get stabbed in the gut. I let out a gasp. It hurt so bad. I never experienced that much pain in my life.

"There's an intruder here!" I hear the person yell.

I could feel my vision fading, but from the corner of my eye, I could see that the Visitors had gotten around the corner and noticed me.

"That's him! That's him!" I hear.

"Idiot!"

Through my hazy vision, I could see a small figure coming in front of me, muttering some words. I feel them grab hold onto me, and I could hear shouts.

Everything's spinning, and I black out.

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**A/N: I'm sorry, this chapter was short and rushed. ;w;**

**EDIT: I changed this around a little bit to make it longer. Hopefully it's not too bad?**


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